


It's his eyes.

by Alina122



Series: Small Things [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Excessive Description of eyes, F/M, Hinny fluff, I don't know what else to add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alina122/pseuds/Alina122
Summary: Its the small things that make you fall in love.





	It's his eyes.

**It’s his Eyes**.

 _i._  
It was his eyes that she first noticed. Just a glimpse of those wide curious eyes. She was still sulking about being not allowed to Hogwarts when he came and asked quietly to her mother on how to get on the platform. Their eyes met once. For a second—but that moment she was captivated by those orbs. Emerald green. That time they were filled with wonder, nervousness and hesitance.

It was just for a second—a non-existent moment. But just enough for her.

 _ii_.  
The next time she saw him—those eyes again was almost a year later. Her naïve-self kept causing blunders in front of them. She tried, tried like anything to compose herself, to act normally but she couldn’t. Not when those bright green eyes were on her.

  
She watched those eyes shine in amusement and mirth behind those glasses as he was with Ron and the twins. She noticed how his eyes would just lit up a shade brighter as he laughed and the curiosity that always seemed to have a home in those eyes.

  
The colour green was just any other colour until she met him. Now it represented him. His eyes.

  
She saw those eyes often. Sometimes when passing in hurry through the Hogwarts’ corridor. Ron and Hermione would always be at his side and he’d never notice her—or her eyes. But she saw his clearly. They were filled with worry.

...

  
Writing poetry was not something that she excelled at. But at that moment those seemed to be the most romantic option, so plucking up her Gryffindor courage she decided to send Harry a card on Valentine ’s Day that would sing out loud her poem. What was she thinking!  
She had chewed her lips, racked her brains and spent a sleepless night only to come up with—

_His eyes are as green as a freshly pickled toad._

  
This was easily one of the embarrassing memories in her life!

 

 

She vividly remembers meeting his eyes down in the Chamber of Secrets, a horrifying memory that is filled with a vague relief of seeing him. The worry etched on his face with a mixture of pain and fear. His eyes tired.

What she doesn’t want to forget is the relief that entered those eyes when he saw her.

 _iii_.  
When she and Neville entered the compartment where he, Ron and Hermione were sitting along with some Professor she presumed—she saw his eyes filled with curiosity and agitation. As the horrid creature entered the compartment, despite the sudden unsettling unhappiness that came from within her she saw those green eyes grow wide in panic and fear. They became unfocused, his breathing coming in short breath as if he was having a fit. Her own mind seemed to have been shut down. There is despair and horrifying memories of her first year cloud her eyes.

  
She hardly noticed the man cast some spell and the blue light emitting the small space. But in the midst of all she saw his eyes close down as he fell unconscious and the last minute terror in them.

iv.

  
She understood the disbelief and panic that appeared when his name was called out as a tri-wizard champion. The widened eyes and hesitant steps were prove enough.  
She’d see him bear those taunt and remarks silently at is back and sometimes retort back. His jaws clenching and unclenching, which was never a good sign.

  
A frown that took a place on his lips when in out in public, the dark bags, half-lidded eyes that just showed how much tired he really was.

  
She didn’t see much of him then. Hermione informed her that he had been practicing for the first task and he was nervous.  
But no matter what others said that he faced the dragon bravely. She had seen that flicker of fear in his eyes when the dragon breathe fire and yet the brave determination that lingered. Hermione and Ron saw it too, she thinks, so she didn’t let her mind worry.

  
That green eyed boy who emerged from the water more than an hour later just after rescuing her brother. Like a prince in shiny armor—her messed up mind told her and she had that little disappointed feeling knowing that it wasn’t her he was rescuing.

But then the third task came. Those green were never the same after that task. They didn’t shine like emerald and got shades darker. Almond shape more profound by those deep dark circles. But worst of it all they shed tears.

  
It felt wrong to stand there and just watch his weak shuddering body shouting out You-Know-Who’s return. Before she could even move past the still crowd that was still too stunned or too mortified by Cedric’s death, Mad-Eye took Harry away and she watched his limping body from behind wanting nothing more to move forward and console him.  
  
v.

  
Anger and resentment took a common place in his eyes, when she saw him the next time. Lips rarely sporting the dazzling smile and brows always furrowed together.  
Days staying at the headquarters went away quickly all filled with worry and annoyance,  
She did notice the worried look both Ron and Hermione shared whenever Harry wasn’t looking and she knew they saw it too. That they saw his tense posture and lack of happiness, the way he would seemingly get lost in his own world and rarely talk. She felt worried.

…

  
It seemed amusing to some extent to see him make a blubbering fool of himself over a crush. But the amusement only lasted for a little while until jealousy took over it. He smiled a little brighter and blushed a shade of red for someone that was not her and that  made her jealous.

   
It was wrong to feel so much for one person. She has never liked those clingy girls she regularly saw and she hated to admit that she was becoming one of them for him.

vi.

  
They didn’t seem to twinkle any longer. He didn’t have the same spark of innocence in his eyes any longer. They only looked tired.

Sometimes sitting in the Great hall she would find herself staring at him, no longer being able to control her feelings ad she would—just for a split second see those eyes staring back. She would smile back trying to be oblivious of the blush gracing her cheeks and the knowing looks Hermione sent her way.

Sometimes he looked as if he was carrying the world’s burden on his shoulders. The fake smiles and empty reassurances he gave to Ron and Hermione were easy for her to detect; especially when he could read him so easily. She noticed how his nose would crinkle just a little bit when he laughed or the faint dimple that formed on his right cheek when he smiled. How he would clench his jaws when irritated and the narrowed eyes that gave a warning of angry outburst. The red rimmed eyes that told her about the nightmares and the constant blinking that he did to keep his tears at bay. She wanted to scream at him, tell him that she knew that his façade would never work on her but she knew that would give him a chance to close up so instead she smiled in encouragement.

She still remembers the day, the _glorious_ day when she saw those emerald eyes light up for her.

  
She remembers herself running towards him, caught in the heat of the moment the joy of winning the Quidditch finals and the dream like reality when he actually kissed her. She glimpsed at his eyes and then the world stopped and then there was no one around, no noise, no crowd, no thoughts, no worries, no yesterday and no tomorrow.

She snuggles deeper into his arms and just lets the scent that is just so Harry consume her. He smells of mint and fresh air and something distant that can only belong him. She loves it. The warmth as she wraps his arms around her and his voice lulls her to a dream-like state and she suddenly says,

  
“You smell very good.”

  
“Er…thanks?” There is amusement in his voice and the moment all filled with embarrassment.

  
“I said it loudly, didn’t I?”

  
Its pure horror as she realizes what she had said.

 

“Very loudly.” He gives her a grin.

  
Neither can tell which one turns redder.

  
No amount of time spent with seemed to be enough. They hold hands, laugh together, snuggle by and kiss often. But those few moments in the Great Hall where they sit separately often catching each other’s eyes are the best. No words are said and there is a distance between them but she can see the happiness in those eyes. And they say enough.

  
Much to the irritation of Hermione they sped unexplainable amount in the library doing nothing. She needs to study for her OWLS and he offers to help in defense, she couldn’t refuse.

  
He explains a defensive spell in broken sentences to her with unusual concentration and this time she no longer can focus.

  
“You weren’t listening, were you?” he asks her finally, raising both of her eyebrows and looking up.

  
“Can’t help it, you are distracting.” The words tumble out before she can stop them and for a moment she wonder when she had become so vulnerable.

  
He grins in amusement at her emerald eyes shining with mirth.

  
“What’s so distracting about me then?” He sniffs closing the book and leaning forward, all the while grinning.

  
They are close, their breath mixing with each other, hears racing and eyes never wavering. Their foreheads touched, lips meeting in the briefest of kisses; a glance at his glazed eyes and before she knew their lips are brushing over each other, nibbling and taking away her breath. There was this moment between the glance and the kiss where the world stopped for the briefest of times and the only thing between them was the anticipation of their lips meeting each other, her breath stealing his. The moment was intense, it hanged the air and it pulled them even closure. Each touch felt different and each kiss new. It was perfect and when it came to an end, gasping and breathing heavily they realize it is only the beginning.

  
“Buggering hell! Let’s get out of her” she exclaims heavily between her pants and they rush, messily stuffing the books away and walking out of the library.

  
It always feel like this with him. Different each time. With him, its feels like she would split in half, part on fire by not touching him and the other part still clam and peaceful knowing he was the one for her, that he was her. They look at each again both grinning stupidly and she is bringing his mouth to meet her own again.

  
Several heated moments later, when a breathless Ginny and red Harry enter the Great Hall she pull him close, gives his cheek and peck and whispers.  
“It’s your eyes.”

  
An answer to the playful question he had asked in the library and she doesn’t need to turn to _know_ the blush that is gracing his cheeks.

 

 

 


End file.
